


maybe love shouldn't.

by itsnotgillian



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Fluff and Angst, I'm Sorry, Inspired by Poetry, It just happened, M/M, but the fluff is like next to nonexistent, i didn't plan on writing this, this is such a mess oh my god
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 21:08:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5943142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsnotgillian/pseuds/itsnotgillian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two boyfriends. </p><p>Two completely different points in Chan's life.</p><p>One common lesson.</p><p>  <i>Love arrives exactly when love is supposed to, and love leaves exactly when love must.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	maybe love shouldn't.

**Author's Note:**

> just so you know this is the most self-indulgent thing i've ever written in my life but at the same time the most ambitious like what the fuck was i thinking
> 
> heavily-inspired (and i _mean_ heavily-inspired) by Sarah Kay and Phil Kaye's poem, [When Love Arrives](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mdJ6aUB2K4g)
> 
> it's such a beautiful piece please go give it a listen!!

_I knew exactly what love looked like – in seventh grade._

_Even though I hadn’t met love yet, if love had wandered into my homeroom, I would’ve recognized him at first glance._

_~_

If anyone were to ask Chan what his ideal type was, he’d say he didn’t have one.

But that was a lie. 

Of course he had an ideal type. It was simple, really. He wanted someone who shared his interests (dinosaurs, dancing, and Michael Jackson, to name a few). He just wasn’t sure if he was allowed to have an ideal type yet, being sixteen and a sophomore in high school and all. 

On the other hand, if anyone asked Hansol what his ideal type was, he wouldn’t even have to think about it.

“Someone who I can talk to. Someone who’s willing to waste time with me. Someone who can make me laugh,” he’d say.

 

* * *

 

The first time they met was— _surprise_ —during homeroom on the first day of tenth grade. It was noisy, as all high school classes were, and the room was too bright, the harsh fluorescent lights beaming from the ceiling and the blinding 7 AM sunlight beating down through the windows.

Chan is sitting right next to one of those windows, eyes trained on the trees swaying gently outside. He doesn’t know how long he’s been staring, but he knows it must’ve been quite a long time because all of a sudden, somebody’s dropping into the seat right next to him, completely out of breath and hair sticking up everywhere as if he came here in a rush.

Chan glances at the wall clock and sees that homeroom was about to start. He looks back at the person beside him and to his surprise, he’s already staring back.

“This seat isn’t taken, is it?” The boy breathes out, bangs fluttering from the puffs of air that come out of his mouth.

Chan shakes his head. “No.”

“Good.” The boy places his bag down. “I’m Hansol, by the way.”

Chan smiles politely at him. “Hey. I’m Chan.”

“What’s your next class after this?” Hansol asks, leaning back into his chair.

Chan pauses for a moment before reaching into his bag to pull out his timetable. He does a quick scan over it and turns back to Hansol.

“English.”

Hansol’s face breaks out into a smile. “Hey, me too!” 

Chan notices that Hansol has a very pretty smile, complete with dimples and perfect teeth. Chan smiles back because it’s contagious.

“Cool.” Chan nods. “We should walk to class together.”

 

 ~

 

_I just must be searching the wrong classrooms, just must be checking the wrong hallways, he was there, I was sure of it._

_If only I could find him._

 

_~_

 

“Guess who I just asked out on a date,” Hansol whispers as he gently elbows Chan in the arm. They’re in the biology lab and are supposed to be working on a handout but the word ‘date’ instantly tears Chan’s attention away from the piece of paper in front of him.

“Who?” Chan scoots closer to Hansol so that their shoulders are touching and Hansol can’t help but smile at his friend’s excitement.

“Seungkwan.”

Chan turns to Hansol, eyes wide in disbelief. “Isn’t he part of the student council?” Hansol nods at this. “How do you even know him?”

“Everyone knows him.” Hansol says matter-of-factly.

Chan clicks his tongue. That wasn’t the answer he was looking for. 

“Yeah, I know. But how did you _meet_ him?”

“Oh, you know, through mutual friends.” Hansol smiles, obviously pleased with himself.

“Why would he go for someone like you?” Chan half-jokes and this earns him a hard jab to the ribs from Hansol.

“You’re just mad because you can’t ask anyone out on a date,” Hansol teases.

“What makes you say that?” Chan raises an eyebrow. “I’m perfectly capable of asking someone out.”

“Nah, I think you’re just salty.” Hansol looks at Chan with mock pity and Chan smacks him right back in the chest. Despite all this, they’re laughing and it would be a lie if Chan said that he wasn’t happy for Hansol.

 

 ~

 

_But when love finally showed up, he had a bowl cut._

_He wore the same clothes every day for a week._

_~_

 

World History was one of the few classes they have together and the moment Hansol walked into the classroom, he was tempted to walk back out because he was sure his laughter was going to get him kicked out of class.

“What _happened_?” Hansol asks, trying to contain his obvious amusement, and Chan just wants to bury himself inside a hole and never come back out. “It looks like someone used one those craft scissors on your hair.”

Chan places a hand on his forehead in an attempt to conceal his tragic fringe but Hansol just laughs harder and Chan begrudgingly thinks that if he doesn’t shut up soon, the whole class would know about the monstrosity that was his hair. 

“That’s rich coming from someone whose hair practically resembles a mushroom,” Chan shoots back as he glares up at Hansol. "That's probably the reason why Seungkwan dumped you on the second date."

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Hansol pouts as his fingers reach for Chan’s hair. “I can’t believe it’s so short!”

Chan swats Hansol’s hand away. “Blame the barber.”

“Just let me fix it.” Hansol’s voice is gentler and frankly, Chan’s tired of arguing about his hair, so he lets Hansol mess around with it and after a few moments, Hansol leans back and observes his handiwork.

“There. Now you don’t look like someone ran a mini lawn mower through your hair.” Hansol looks satisfied as he gives Chan a thumbs-up.

“Thanks. But you’re still a jerk for laughing.”

 

* * *

 

“Isn’t that the same shirt you were wearing yesterday?” Chan comments as he sits across from Hansol at their lunch table. Hansol looks up at Chan before sneaking a glance at the plain v-neck shirt he was wearing.

“See, it even has that stain from the pasta you ate yesterday,” Chan adds. 

“I told you, my parents are out for the whole week and I don’t really know how to do laundry.” Hansol shrugs, taking a sip from his water bottle. 

“Are you serious? What about your sister’s clothes?”

“She has _a_ _lot_ of clothes, okay? Me on the other hand…”

“You’re gross.” Chan scrunches up his nose, shaking his head at Hansol. 

“Yeah, but you love me.” Hansol winks.

Chan rolls his eyes but a smile is forming on his lips. 

“Maybe.”

 ~

_Love became the reason I lied to my parents._

_Love had terrible rhythm on the dance floor, but made sure we never missed a slow song._

_~_

“I’m just going over to Hansol’s house for a project,” Chan explained as he grabbed his jacket from where it hung near the door. His mom poked her head out of the kitchen, whisk still in hand, and a concerned look on her face.

“Are you sure? It’s kind of late,” Mrs. Lee checks the time and sure enough, it’s already six in the evening.

“His house is only a short bike ride away.” Chan reassures her. 

“Well, okay. As long as you’re home before nine.”

“Mom, relax. I won’t stay out that long,” Chan says over his shoulder as he opens the front door. With a final wave, he steps out into the cold, windy night.

 

* * *

 

“I can’t believe you lied to your mom just so you could come over,” Hansol muses, fingers expertly working at the controls of the console that was tightly held in his hands. He was sitting on the floor right next to Chan, their eyes focused on the TV in front of them.

“It was getting pretty boring at home,” Chan answers back, struggling to beat Hansol at the game they were currently absorbed in. Silence followed soon after, the only sounds coming from the TV and the soft click of the control buttons as the two boys repeatedly pressed at them. It took another few minutes for Chan to pause the game, a frustrated sigh making its way out of his lips. 

“Am I too good to beat?” Hansol laughs, placing the controller to the side as he leans back on his hands, eyes watching Chan.

“No, I’m just tired,” Chan sticks his tongue out and Hansol thinks the action to be quite endearing.

“You should go home.”

Chan stretches. “Don’t wanna.”

“Your parents are gonna kill me if I keep you out too late,” Hansol points out. He gets up from the floor and flops down on his bed, limbs splayed out, and eyes focused on the ceiling. A few moments later, Chan crawls onto Hansol’s bed and lies down beside him, his head coming up to rest on Hansol’s arm. Hansol wraps his arm around Chan’s shoulder, pulling him closer until their sides are pressed together. 

They stay like that for a while, staring up at the cream-colored ceiling.

“We should play some music,” Chan blurts out, already reaching for his phone inside the pocket of his jeans. Hansol moves closer so his breath tickles the side of Chan’s neck, eyes peering up to look at Chan’s phone.

“Play that one,” Hansol whispers as Chan scrolls through his music library. Chan gives him a look but plays it anyway, and soon, the first few notes of Ed Sheeran’s Photograph are being carried out through the room.

Suddenly, Hansol’s fingers find Chan’s wrist, and he’s tugging on it as he gets up from the bed, eyes gleaming and the side of his mouth slightly turned up. 

“What are you doing?” Chan asks as he sits up.

“Let’s dance.” 

“Why?” Chan laughs; it’s breathy and light and it makes Hansol’s heart jump.

“Because you like to dance,” Hansol declares as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

Chan doesn’t say anything after that, just lets himself be pulled up onto his feet as the song progresses, the melody moving through and between their bodies. Hansol places his hands on Chan’s waist, so Chan has no choice but to place his on Hansol’s firm shoulders. They move around Hansol’s room, stepping from side to side, and occasionally, Chan would laugh because Hansol would step on his feet. Hansol would always apologize after, but Chan would say it’s okay, he understands; Hansol should just follow his lead.

The night ends when they’ve danced to practically every slow song that was on Chan’s phone. Chan says goodbye as he mounts his bike and Hansol says it back, but he can’t help but feel like he should’ve said more. There was definitely something else he wanted to say, but he didn’t know what it was.

 

 ~ 

 

_And love grew, stretched like a trampoline._

_Love changed. Love disappeared._

_Slowly, like baby teeth, losing parts of me I thought I needed._

_Love vanished like an amateur magician, and everyone could see the trapdoor but me._

 

~ 

 

It was the tail end of their senior year, and college was right around the corner. Both Chan and Hansol hadn’t forgotten that one night back in their sophomore year and everything that came after that, which became the basis for their choice to apply for the same colleges and universities. Maintaing a relationship when they were apart seemed too much of a task for them, so they were hoping that they’d be accepted at the same place—wherever that may be.

But, of course, life was unfair. Chan got accepted into one university and Hansol got into another. They were happy, of course; their four years’ worth of hard work is finally paying off and they were _finally_ going to graduate but they’d be lying if they said it didn’t tear at their hearts to know that they wouldn’t be together for the duration of their college life. 

“I can’t believe we’re done with high school.” Hansol leans back in the driver’s seat of his car, a black Toyota he got from his parents on his eigteenth birthday. One of his hands is resting on the steering wheel while the other finds its way into Chan’s. It’s around seven in the evening and they’re parked outside of Hansol’s house and they’ve been there for about half an hour now but neither of them wants to get out. 

“I can’t believe it, either,” Chan agrees, fingers slipping in between Hansol’s.

Hansol turns to Chan and suddenly it’s like the first day of sophomore year again, Chan’s face lit up with sunlight and bright fluorescent lighs, but this time, it’s the soft glow of the streetlamps outside that traces lines along Chan’s features, but Hansol thinks he’s just as beautiful. 

“We have the whole summer together.” Hansol says it like it’s a fact. And it is, and that’s what scares Chan. Because after summer, it won’t be HansolandChan or ChanandHansol; it’s going to be Hansol and Chan and Chan and Hansol, complete with all the spaces in between them and Chan doesn’t know if two months is enough for him to ready himself.

“Then after that, it’s college,” Hansol adds. 

The statement alone wasn’t so bad, but it brought a whole new wave of sadness over Chan.

“Slow down, will you?” Chan had meant it as a lighthearted comment, but he chokes on his words and suddenly there are tears in his eyes and he’s crying and Hansol reaches over to wipe away at his face.

“I’m sorry,” Hansol whispers. “I’m sorry.”

 

* * *

 

The first semester was good in terms of communication. They had a fixed time for Skype calls and they’d text each other throughout the day, sending each other pictures and snaps of things that reminded them of the other.

Chan was making friends left and right and Hansol seemed content with his new title as a film major. Both of them were happy and life was going great.

It wasn’t until both of them were being bombarded with schoolwork and term papers that the phone calls and messages became less frequent. They’d still manage to get on the phone, but it would always end up with one of them falling asleep or having to go because of an important task they needed to do.

They were aware of their dwindling connection and they tried, they really did, to keep things the way they were before, but that’s where they went wrong.

Things weren’t the way they were before.

And both of them came to terms with that one day, when Hansol was settling in for dinner and Chan was on his way to class. Chan’s phone had rang when he was walking to his Communications 101 lecture, and when he had seen who was calling, he couldn’t resist taking a detour to answer it.

“Hello?” Chan sounds fairly surprised. It wasn’t like Hansol to call at this time of day.

“Hey.” Hansol sounds tired and Chan knows he must be. _It’s probably night time at his place._

“Are you busy?” 

“No,” Chan lies. He hasn’t talked to Hansol in weeks and he was starting to miss him really badly, so skipping the first few minutes of his lecture didn’t seem like such a bad idea at the moment.

“Good, because I need to tell you something.”

This one sentence has Chan’s blood running cold because _Holy shit, this sounds like a break-up. Is this a break-up? It might be a break-up_. Call him paranoid and all, but Chan’s heart is beating a mile a minute and he has to lean against the brick wall of one of the campus buildings to steady himself.

“Look, Chan I—“

Chan cuts him off. “Are you breaking up with me? Because if you are then I want you to know this is a really shitty way to do it.”

There’s a pause on the other end before Hansol speaks up.

“I’m sorry, were you in the middle of something important?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Chan argues. “Breaking up with me over the phone is a dick move, Hansol.”

“What do you want me to do? It’s not as if I can come over there and break up with you in person,” Hansol sounds annoyed and it sends a sting through Chan’s heart.

“So, you _are_ breaking up with me?” It’s more of a declaration than a question.

“Yeah.” 

Chan doesn’t know what to say next, he just stands there, bottom lip caught between his teeth. It’s like the world around him is dissapearing and all that matters right now is this phone call. 

“You know I don’t wanna do this,” Hansol begins.

“Then, why are you doing it?” Chan knows he probably sounds immature and clingy at the moment and yeah, he saw it coming considering their lack of communication over the past few weeks (no matter how much he tries to deny it) but, _god,_ it still hit him like a shitton of bricks and it _hurt_. 

“I’m sorry.” Hansol sounds defeated and there’s a hint of finality to it and Chan wonders why it’s so easy for him to give up.

Chan doesn’t say another word. He ends the call and decides to ditch the rest of his lecture altogether.

 

~

 

_Love stayed away for years, and when love finally reappeared, I barely recognized him._

_Love smelt different now, had darker eyes, a broader back, love came with freckles I didn’t recognize._

~ 

 

If given the chance to give his eighteen-year-old self some advice, Chan would probably tell himself to get ready because the first few months out of college is confusing as fuck and that he should _really_ just forget about his high school boyfriend and also invest in a lot of of blankets because paying for your heater isn’t really worth it. 

So at present, Chan sits inside a small café to escape the biting cold of his apartment and also to spend some much needed alone time. Getting hired right after graduation hasn’t really given him the opportunity to just sit down and think and just be with himself. Plus, his friend Minghao works here, so he can always expect some really good discounts. 

After greeting Minghao at the counter and ordering, Chan settles down at a table near the window with his drink. Chan pulls out his phone and toys around with it for a bit, scrolling through the contacts on his phone. Most of them are from college, some are from way back in high school, and a sizeable amount are from work. Of course, there’s also his parents and other relatives but he barely talks to them now, which, in Chan’s opinion, is pretty shitty of himself.

Chan looks up when he hears the door to the café open, the tiny bell hanging over the entrance tinkling; a signal that someone has come in. He sees someone walk in and it’s safe to say that Chan is immediately entranced.

The guy that just walked in was tall and had platinum-blond hair that rested perfectly against his forehead. He was smiling and, _wow_ , Chan had never seen anyone with a smile that perfect. 

The newcomer greets Minghao at the counter pretty much the same way Chan just did a few moments ago and Chan is quick to realize that he’s probably also friends with the pastel-haired barista. Chan tries to listen in on their conversation but they’re too far away and Chan thinks a little while later that it’s probably for the best since it _is_ kind of rude to eavsdrop. 

Chan was about to turn his full attention back to his phone when suddenly, the chair across him is being pulled back and standing before him is the same guy he was just admiring moments ago.

“Hey.” The stranger greets. “I noticed that you’re all alone and Minghao over there says you’re a friend of his, and knowing myself, I never pass up an opportunity to make new friends.”

The guy is flashing Chan one of his really cute smiles and Chan can’t help but smile back. It’s not his fault. This guy practically radiates happiness.

“I’m Chan.” Chan holds out his hand over the table. The guy takes it and gives it a firm squeeze. 

“Soonyoung.” The stranger, which Chan now knows is called Soonyoung, beams up at him. “So, what’s a respectable young bachelor like yourself doing here on a Saturday morning?”

Chan blushes at his words and he’s instantly annoyed with himself because blushing is such a teenage thing to do and Chan is way past that point in his life. 

“Nothing much. Just taking a break from work. Also from life in general.”

Soonyoung chuckles as he takes a sip from his own coffee cup. “I know the feeling.”

Chan tilts his head and decides to keep the conversation going. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-six. You?”

“Twenty-three.”

Soonyoung raises his eyebrows at this. “Ooh, fresh graduate.”

“Yeah,” Chan admits.

The conversation flows easily from there and by the time Chan has to go, it’s already past lunchtime. Somewhere in the midst of all their talking, they had exchanged numbers, and promises; promises to see each other again—here—at this very café.

 

 ~

 

 _Love had songs that reminded him of someone else, songs love didn’t like to listen to._

_So did I._

_~_

Soonyoung was driving and the radio was the only source of noise inside the car. It wasn’t awkard—not at all—it’s just that both men are too busy trying to calm their nerves to be able to hold a proper conversation. Chan couldn’t shake the feeling that something major was about to take place tonight.

“Where are you taking me exactly?” Chan sneaks a glance at Soonyoung. The older had his eyes on the road but Chan could tell Soonyoung was just itching to look over to the passenger seat.

“Somewhere nice.” Soonyoung smiles and that’s enough reassurance for Chan. 

They sink back into silence but a few minutes later, Soonyoung’s singing along to a song on the radio. He’s tapping his fingers on the steering wheel and Chan notes that he has a pretty good singing voice.

“You like this song?” Chan asks, gesturing towards the radio. Soonyoung’s still smiling but it’s somewhat wistful now and Chan can’t help but wonder if this song meant something more to the man beside him.

“Yeah,” Soonyoung replies. The song playing is James Bay’s Hold Back the River and as the song continues to play, Chan thinks that this could be a scene straight out of an indie teen movie. “It reminds me of…someone.”

Chan stays quiet at that. Soonyoung looks over at him and smiles apologetically.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought that up.” 

“It’s okay. We all have songs that remind us of someone.” Chan doesn’t know where that came from and he also doesn’t know why Ed Sheeran’s Photograph is suddenly playing in his head.

 

 ~

 

 _But we found a park bench that fit us perfectly_  

_We found jokes that make us laugh._

 

 ~

 

“We’re here.” Soonyoung’s heart is beating wildly in his chest because he hasn’t done this in a long time and he doesn’t know if he can still pull this off. He gets out of the car and hurriedly walks over to the passenger side, opening the door to let Chan out.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Chan says, but he takes Soonyoung’s outstretched hand anyway. Soonyoung helps him out of the car as he watches Chan look around. They’re parked right next to a playground and there are benches scattered all around the block. Numerous brick walkways snake around the area, intersecting at certain points and Soonyoung can see that it doesn’t take long until Chan soon realizes exactly where they are. 

“A park?”

Soonyoung holds Chan’s hand a little tighter. “I wanted to keep things simple for tonight.”

“What could we possibly do in a park?”

“I don’t know. Talk, maybe?” Soonyoung shrugs.

“Haven’t we done enough of that these past few weeks at the café?” Chan raises an eyebrow but he’s laughing.

“Okay, then. Let me do all the talking.” Soonyoung leads Chan towards one of the benches and pulls him down beside him. Chan’s face is glowing under the streetlamps that surround them and Soonyoung thinks he looks really fucking gorgeous. 

Soonyoung takes a deep breath. “So, I’ve been thinking.” Soonyoung takes Chan’s hand and decides to just get it over with.

“I think we should go steady, you know?" 

Chan blinks and Soonyoung thinks he might have done something wrong, but a moment later, Chan is laughing. 

“You brought me all the way here to tell me that?” Chan’s eyes were all crinkled up and he was smiling with his teeth, so Soonyoung kind of forgives him for laughing at his face right after he asks him if he’s alright with a little commitment. 

“I was trying to be romantic,” Soonyoung protests. Chan is giggling quietly now and he’s leaning in and Soonyoung lets him because kissing on a park bench at night has sort of been on his imaginary bucket list for a while now. 

They pull away and Chan looks happy and Soonyoung is happy and it’s like the two of them are enclosed in their own little bubble of happiness. They get up from the park bench some few hours later, totally losing track of time and totally not caring at all.

The drive home after that would end up to be one of Soonyoung’s favorite memories.

 

~

 

 _Love is messier now, not as simple._

_And turns out, love shits!_

_~_

Chan wakes up to the sound of shuffling. He opens his eyes a crack and sees Soonyoung’s figure bustling around the room, pulling clothes out of drawers and packing things inside a duffel bag. Chan rubs at his eyes as he watches Soonyoung. He seems to be in a hurry. Chan checks the time. It’s 10:30 AM. Soonyoung’s pulling on a pair of grey sweatpants when Chan finally decides to speak up. 

“Do you have a class to instruct today?” Chan asks, pulling the covers tighter around him.

Soonyoung glances over at Chan, smiling briefly as if to say ‘good morning’.

“Yep.”

“On a Sunday?”

Soonyoung stops what he’s doing and considers Chan’s question for a moment. After a few seconds, Soonyoung walks over, carefully climbing onto the bed. He leans over Chan for a moment before dipping down to catch Chan’s lips in his. Soonyoung pulls away moments later, eyes apologetic. 

“I’ll be back before nine, I promise.”

“And you said being a dance coach means having a flexible schedule,” Chan can’t help but pout up at his boyfriend. Soonyoung just chuckles.

“I also said my schedule would be more unpredictable.”

Soonyoung crawls off the bed and resumes his packing, throwing the duffel bag over his shoulder once he’s got everything he needs. He gives Chan one last kiss before he heads out the door.

 

* * *

 

“Soonyoung,” Chan whispers one night as they lay face to face, their breaths fanning each other’s faces. “Do you still love me?”

Soonyoung’s eyebrows knit together and he’s suddenly pulling Chan closer. 

“Of course I do.”

Chan searches Soonyoung’s face for the truth. “How come you never say it anymore?”

“I love you,” Soonyoung mutters softly as he brushes Chan’s hair away from his face. 

“It doesn’t work that way,” Chan huffs. “You only said that because I reminded you about it.”

Soonyoung lets go of Chan and sits up, hands running through his hair. Chan watches him and his heart sinks.

“What do you want me to do, Chan?” There was no anger in Soonyoung’s voice, but Chan could make out the slightest hint of sadness 

“I don’t know,” Chan replies in a small voice.

_What do you want me to do?_

Those words seemed simple enough but it holds a heavier meaning in Chan’s heart than it’s supposed to. Time and time again he’s been asked, _‘What do you want me to do?’_ and whether he admits it or not, Chan’s answer has always been the same.

He wants to reach out to Soonyoung, pull him close, trace patterns on his back, but he can’t. He can’t act like he’s still in love with him when deep down, he knows he probably isn’t.

“Maybe that’s the problem.” Soonyoung turns around to look at Chan. “We don’t know what we’re doing.”

Chan doesn’t have to ask the same way he did with Hansol many years ago. This time, he knows it’s a break-up.

 

~

 

_But love also cries._

_And love will tell you you are beautiful and mean it, over and over again._

_“You are beautiful.”_

_~_

The phone call catches Chan off-guard. In fact, he’s so surprised, he almost drops his phone into his bowl of ramen.

The caller ID flashes bold and clear on his phone screen, waiting to be answered. Chan hasn’t heard from Soonyoung in months and he sure wasn’t expecting to hear from him now. 

With shaking hands, he presses the ‘Accept’ button. 

“Hello?” 

It’s quiet and tentative at first and Chan’s voice is barely a whisper.

“Chan?” Soonyoung’s voice breaks at his name and Chan can hear his heart break along with it. Soonyoung sniffles and it sounds like he’s been crying. Chan thinks he must be drunk because as impulsive as Soonyoung may seem, he’s not the type to go around calling his exes without being influenced by an outward force, which—in this case—is the copious amount of alcohol he probably just took in.

“I’m sorry,” Chan can hear Soonyoung sob through the phone. “I fucked up really bad with you.” 

“Soonyoung, it’s been six months.” Chan tries to be firm and emotionless but he wonders how far he can go without breaking down at the sound of Soonyoung’s voice. “It’s a little too late for that.”

“I know, I know. It’s just, I wanted to hear your voice again. And you know, apologize.”

There’s a long pause and Chan prays for Soonyoung to just hang up, but Chan can still hear Soonyoung’s soft hiccups. Chan breaks the silence.

“Is that all?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Soonyoung sighs. “But there’s one more thing.”

Chan lets himself listen. “What is it?”

“Just know that you’re still the most beautiful person I’ve ever had the honor of loving.”

 

* * *

 

Chan walks into the bar and orders a beer. He doesn’t want to get drunk tonight. He just wants to think.

Chan crouches over the counter, mumbling a thanks as the bartender hands him an open bottle of the cheapest beer they have to offer. He takes it and brings it up to his lips, savoring the bitterness. 

The place is quiet and dim, but it’s not isolated, unlike Chan’s apartment.

Chan’s thoughts move back to the phone call last night. To the words Soonyoung said. To the words he, himself, should’ve said. 

His mind moves back further and suddenly he’s remembering the first time they met at that café. Even further still, his brain takes him to that one period in time back in college when all he did was hook up with random strangers in an attempt to forget about his other ex.

 _Hansol._  

Wow, okay.

Hansol seems like leagues away; Chan feels like he was some person that existed in another lifetime, but he knew better than that.

He knew that Hansol was his first love, his first kiss, his first everything, and no matter how cliché it gets, you truly never forget about your first.

As the minutes turn into hours, Chan can’t help but think about how unlucky he is when it comes to love, as pretentious as that may sound.

But it’s true. 

However, despite the unfortunate events that transpired between him and the people he was involved with, he realizes that it’s okay. It’s okay because he’s young and he’s got his whole life ahead of him. It’s okay because everybody has shitty break-ups. It’s okay because love isn’t everything.

Chan pays for his drinks and gets up. He leaves the bar, heart both heavy and light. Maybe someday, love will come back. But for now, Chan leaves the door wide open for the next time they enter into his life. And when that day comes, he’ll be ready. 

Hopefully.

  ~

_Maybe love is only there for a month._

_Maybe love is there for every firework, every birthday party, every hospital visit._

_Maybe love stays- maybe love can’t._

_Maybe love shouldn’t._

 

**Author's Note:**

> tell me what you think because i'm so unsure of this aahhh ㅠㅠ


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